HOLES IN THE FABRIC: Bk 1 The Weaver Prophecy

Chapter 23: Pure Ritual

Moana  lay huddled with the cold dirt piled over her, when she heard the sound of people walking through the bush. She didn't look up, convinced it was just another game by the invisible whisperers. But a few minutes later, to her surprise a group of people came into view. Moana looked at them suspiciously. Were they hallucinations? She closed her eyes quickly, then opened them again- expecting to see them running behind the trees to hide.

"Have you got something stuck in your eyes?" asked the Maori man, with a feathered cloak around his shoulders and a white feather protruding from his hair.

Moana shook her head and sat up, the earth falling away."You are the Tohunga I presume?" Moana wanted to put her hand out and see if he was real, if she could feel his skin. She was so relieved that someone else was here, but was concerned at any moment he might disappear and join the whisperers.

"We have met before?" He signalled to one of the others, and they brought a blanket and placed it around Moana's shoulders. It was much warmer than the dirt.

"Have we? No I don't think so..." Moana paused to reflect. There was something about him that seemed very familiar. So much had happened that her terms of reference had disappeared, she merely shrugged. Acutely aware of how she must look she started to brush the dirt from her gown.

"Is that Egyptian clothing you are wearing?" He frowned as though she had somehow displeased him by doing so.

Moana looked down at the beautifully crafted gown."Is it?"  

"Where did you get it from?" His eyes bored into her own. Unsure who she could trust, or how to explain it anyway,  she figured silence was the safest reply for the time being. So she just returned his gaze with a smile. Probably thinks I am an idiot,lost on the way home from a fancy dress party.

The Tohunga turned to the people with him and issued some instructions- in Maori. All looked towards her, eyeing her with interest. Moana stood up, flicked off the remainder of the dirt and pulled the blanket around her shoulders like a cloak.

The Tohunga spoke again, sharper this time and there was a flurry of activity, bags were emptied, mats spread upon the ground, and some of the scrub cleared. Others proceeded to make rough shelters of a kind from ferns and branches.

"We are not staying here, surely." Moana was aghast. She wanted to put a great deal of distance between her and the whisperers, the sharp insistent pains they inflicted.

"We?" The Tohunga asked, a subtle reminder that if she wanted their help, she probably needed to be a bit friendlier."Tell me where you come from." The Tohunga motioned for her to sit next to him on the mat. His manner now gentle, but commanding.

Moana hesitated, caught between her urge to run as far as she could away from them, and her desire to learn more about this place and find out if the children were here.

"I will do what I can to help you. To do that, I must also know how it was that you ended up here. Include any details that you feel may be relevant, no matter how small. It is never good to rush these things." The Tohunga called to a slender woman who looked about the same age as Moana. She came forward and placed some food before them. "You must be hungry. Eat some food, while we talk."